


Handsome Devil

by ughdotcom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Don't copy to another site, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, I couldn't use any girls or nice boys so I might write a sequel, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Nice Petunia Evans Dursley, Outing, Rugby, Using Enemies lightly, Well - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29276211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ughdotcom/pseuds/ughdotcom
Summary: Draco and Harry are forced to share a bedroom at their boarding school. The loner and the star athlete at this rugby-mad school form an unlikely friendship until it's tested by the authorities.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 10
Kudos: 81





	Handsome Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the movie Handsome Devil
> 
> Usually I never add disclaimers but I stole all the dialogue from the movie itself so yeah. I don't own Handsome Devil. No clue who does. Go watch it.
> 
> I also don't own Harry Potter but we all know that because if I owned Harry Potter it wouldn't have so much ingrained racism and sexism

_ “Okay Draco. You have 90 minutes. Any subject you want. Time starts… now.” _

_ We all have one thing we’re ashamed of. The memory of one moment so embarrassing we don’t think we’ll ever get over it. A moment that still wakes us at four a.m. sweating. My moment happened because I was afraid. I was afraid because I lost the one true friend I’d ever had. People do bad things out of fear. _

_ For me, the good life ended a few years back, when Dad died. Suddenly, Mum married Kingsley, and they were living in France, and I was in boarding school in the middle of nowhere. A school where rugby was religion, where I was persecuted daily. _

“I mean, legally you guys shouldn’t be able to force me to go to school.” Draco complained from the backseat of the car. “Legally I’m basically an adult.”

“You’re basically an adult but actually you’re sixteen.” Narcissa responded, and Kingsley chimed in from the driver’s seat.

“Yes, your  _ actual _ age is sixteen. Which is why the idea of us  _ not _ sending you to school is absurd.”

“So you're basically sending me to jail.” Draco responded, and Narcissa rolled her eyes.

“Even prisoners make an effort to fit in. They do jigsaws together. Play…” she waved her hand in the air, “ping-pong together.”

“Could you  _ please _ listen to yourself for the  _ smallest _ of moments.” Draco groaned, leaning forward in his seat.

“Excuse me?” Narcissa said, an incredulous look on her face.

“Draco, conforming is part of growing up.” Kingsley explained, annoyingly persistent in his deep voice. “And letting you leave school early would be sending you to jail in a way too. Boys that leave school at your age doom themselves to a life sweeping shop floors.”

_ Kingsley was obsessed with the guys who swept shop floors. _

“And then crime. Theodore, Barnabas Nott’s boy, he was expelled last year. Now he’s a bum in New York.”

“No way, really?” Draco said, leaning forward and looking at Kingsley.

“Yes! Singing on the Metro for money, practically begging. It’s quite sad, so just think about that.”

_ A bum… in New York! I would have loved that. But was I bad enough to get expelled? This year would tell. _

Draco got out of the car at Saint Anthony’s college, holding his bags. He walked towards the entrance, scanning the grounds as Narcissa and Kingsely fussed by the car. Out of place in the leather jacket over his uniform, he joined the crowd of rowdy boys entering the red brick building, the bell ringing loudly.

Inside, he moved to the board where the room assignments were posted, scanning over the list. Behind him, a large boy with black hair waltzed down the stairs, humming like he owned the school.

“Got my own room. Brilliant.” Draco said as his finger landed on the words  _ Draco Malfoy _ , across from a blank white space.

The boy stopped behind him like he was always planning to. “Did you just say you have your own room?” he asked. “No way. Let me see?” Draco stepped out of the way and pointed at his name on the list. “Oh.”

_ Ladies and gentlemen, my tormentor-in-chief _ .

“Okay. Maybe the reason you have your own room is so that nobody gets bummed, you know, in the middle of the night.”

“And hello to you too, Flint.” Draco responded sarcastically with a sigh. “I trust the summer treated you well.”

“I trust the summer treated you well.” Flint responded in a mocking voice, and the crowd of boys around them laughed. “You are an utter bender!” Draco blinked up at him, used to the taunting.

“Marcus you fucking ledge.” Roger Davies interrupted, pulling Flint away from Draco. “I haven't seen you in  _ ages _ .”

“All right.” Flint said, letting himself be pulled away, pointing threateningly at Draco, who hung his head in exasperation, picked up his bags, and turned to go to his room, up the stairs with the other boys.

_ Back to prison. And just like jail, if nobody likes who you are, then, mate, you better hide yourself away. _

_ Here’s an example: for English essays I stole the lyrics from obscure songs the old Professor Binns would never know. But it was a private joke _ .

Draco sat in his English class staring up at the ceiling as Professor Binns passed the essays back. His sat in front of him, an A sitting pretty in red ink over the off-white parchment.

_ Nobody else knew the songs, or cared one way or the other. Everyone at Saint Anthony's College was obsessed with rugby. _

The ball that was being passed around the class landed firmly in Draco’s lap. He sighed and set it off to the side, next to his desk.

_ And I didn’t hate rugby, but what happened if you didn’t love it- _

Ernest MacMillian purred at him from behind him, and the class burst into laughter as Draco moved uncomfortably in his seat.

_ Yeah, that sound means gay. I have no idea why it means that, but believe me - I heard it a lot. I should explain. Gay means crap, bad, or different. And the fear of being anything different ran through our school from top to bottom. There were other kinds of schools, of course. Cool, modern schools, where anything went. But not here. Talking about sexual identity to anyone at our school? That was like looking at the sun. It seemed you could be whoever you liked out in the world. _

When Draco got back to his dorm after English, he slammed the door shut and leaned his head back, trying to ignore the chorus of the odd moans that still played in his ears. He took in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh.

_ But our school wasn’t part of the world _ .

“Firstly some sad news.” the headmaster, Arthur Weasley, began the school meeting. “After a short illness, our dear colleague and friend, Cuthbert Binns, has passed on.” the student body started to cheer, and Draco looked around at them with resigned tiredness, but a glimmer of a smile flickered over his face.

“Students!” Mr. Lockhart said, cutting through the noise.

“Which will mean some reshuffling in the English department.” Arthur continued, looking over to the new face in the line of teachers. “In honor of our recently deceased English teacher, one student will be chosen to represent the school in the National Essay Writing competition. There will be a prize of five grand.”

The crowd cheered again, and Draco perked up.

“As a donation to the school.” a chorus of disappointed voices filled the air, and Draco shook his head. “Now… rugby!” cheers once more surrounded Draco, who closed his eyes.

_ Did you ever meet an adult who wishes they were a kid again? That was our headmaster, Arthur. _

“This school has won 17 senior cups.” another boy came in through the door, accompanied by his guardian, “But it has been a long decade since the last. We have a fine crop of players, and this entire school has to support our wonderful coach, Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart!” Mr. Lockhart waved at the crowd with a smile on his face, and everyone clapped.

_ As for this guy, well. Rumor has it that Mrs. Lockhart left him because he was too obsessed with rugby. _

The boy at the back of the auditorium walked away from the door into the hall, followed by the woman with him.

_ And that? That’s the guy who changed everything _ .

Harry sat on a bench in the hallway, watching as Flint and Montague shoved a smaller boy, Colin Creevy, into a rubbish bin. He turned his head to where his aunt and Mr.. Weasely were coming out of his office.

“This is the perfect school for Harry, what with it being sporty and…” Petunia said, trailing off as they came to stand by him. He looked up at them as Arthur spoke.

“Now, young man. Before we show your aunt your room, I need you to promise me something. I’m told you left your old school for repeated fighting? We are happy to teach you, as long as that remains in your past. Understood?” Harry nodded. “Follow me.” Arthur turned away from them, and started walking down the hall. Harry got up without complaint, grabbing his bag and following him and Petunia. “Get out of that bin, Creevy, and stop playing around!” Arthur scolded Colin, who rolled his eyes.

“Yes, sir, because it’s all  _ my _ fault.” Colin said back, sarcasm tinging his voice as Harry looked back at him. Boys snickered at him from around the corner.

“Apology accepted!” Arthur responded. They started up the stairs, and Arthur began detailing the school’s rugby program. “Our coach, Gilderoy Lockhart, is a former student.”

“That’s nice.” Petunia responded, as Harry trailed behind, saying nothing.

“We’ve a fine crop of players this year. Just one more tilt to the title.” they stepped off the stairs on the top floor, and Arthur began to lead them down a hallway. “Training starts tomorrow.” he didn’t look at Harry, although he was obviously talking to him. “Do not be late for Gilderoy.” he gestured to the room that Harry was going to share. “A nice boy called Draco is in this room. His parents live in Paris.” he opened the door, and they scanned the room.

Draco had coated the walls in posters, both sides of the room.

“What sort of a boy is Draco?” Petunia asked, glancing at the posters on the wall, tentatively, eyes fixing on a large poster above the bed that was going to be Harry’s.

“Voracious reader.” Arthur said, but sighed looking at the poster Petunia was studying. Their eyes all drifted to it. It was a poster for a band, larger than all the other posters. On it, in the center under the yellow font, were two men, kissing like their lives depended on it. Petunia looked offended, but Harry only stared blankly forward.

“Well I’ll, uh, leave you to say your goodbyes.” Arthur said awkwardly, drifting out of the room, black robes drifting behind him. Petunia spared another glance at the poster before turning to Harry, who was letting his head hang down.

“Harry, I’m sorry your Uncle didn’t make it. He wanted to. He was just-”

“Drunk.” Harry interrupted.

“He’s busy. He’s incredibly busy with work.” Petunia lied, for either his benefit or hers. “You know how hard he works, it’s flat out…” she trailed off, realizing that Harry didn’t want to hear it. They looked over at each other. “Best of luck.” she said, voice soft. She hugged him, and he hugged tentatively back. She released him with a sad smile, and left the room, leaving Harry standing there. He sighed and looked out the window, eyes drifting over Draco’s walls. They settled on a quote.

“And these children, that you spit on, / As they try to change their ways, / Are immune to your consultation, / They’re quite aware of what they’re going through.”

He looked away, going back to looking out of the window.

Draco climbed the stairs up to his room. Petunia, although he didn’t know who she was, walked down by him, a sad look on her face, like tears were threatening to spill out of her eyes if she let go for a single second. “Are you okay, Miss?” Draco asked. She gave a tearful nod and reached out as to pat his arm as she continued going down the stairs. Draco stopped and looked back after her, concerned, ignoring Flint giving Neville a noogie further on up the stairs.

When Draco reached his room, he didn’t expect anything to be different. The door was open, and he turned the corner to walk into his room, only to find Harry on the ground, shirtless, doing pushups. Draco cleared his throat, and Harry looked up. They stayed like that for a minute, staring at each other, Draco in the doorway and Harry on his hands and feet in a plank.

“Give me a second.” Draco said, raising a finger and turning away, walking out of the room. Harry resumed his pushups.

“I can’t share with a guy like him.” Draco said to Arthur, taking up space in his office as Colin tried to remove himself from the bin outside.

“Draco, Draco, Draco.” Arthur responded. “You know, my time in the Boy Scouts as a boy was rewarding on many different levels. Bivouacking, orienteering, the art of making knots.” Draco stared at him incredulously. “And though I may not remember how to tie a round turn and two half hitches, I will never forget the lasting bond of friendship that ensued.”

“Sir, the Geneva Convention-”

“My decision is final.” Arthur’s loud voice interrupted him. “Leave.” Draco internally groaned, and turned around to walk out of the office.

_ Yes, this was a blow. But it wasn’t as if the rugby team would be congregating in my bedroom _ .

As Draco reached his room, he heard Miles Bletchly speaking. “We heard you were coming. Yeah, you’re younger than us, but Gilderoy says ‘if you’re good enough, you’re old enough’.”

“Look, Harry.” Roger Davies continued. “This is the last year for this dream team, all right? We all leave this summer. I’ve been Captain twice, and I’m not allowed to repeat again, so we have to win this thing this year. If I’m being honest with you, I don’t think the chance is gonna come around again, not to this school. Training starts tomorrow at six.” Draco made his way into the infested room. “Do not be late. Seriously, big no-no.” the rugby players all looked at him.

“This is your roommate?” Flint asked, pointing over his shoulder at Draco. “God, I was really starting to wonder for a second, I mean…” he pointed up at the poster that Petunia had taken offense with earlier. “This is a picture of two guys wearing the face off each other, Harry. I mean, really?”

“That’s not mine.” Harry responded, looking up at the poster and Flint. Flint stepped up onto the bed and grabbed at the top of the poster. Draco moved quickly, grabbing at his jacket.

Flint turned to look down at Draco, raising a finger. Draco stepped away. “Touch me homo, and I call rape. Okay?” he ripped the poster down, tearing it in half as Draco flinched. “Jesus, what’s wrong with you?” Flint said, jumping down from the bed with the pieces of poster in hand.

“Marcus, give it a rest.” Roger said, grabbing and pulling Flint back.

“Harry, you’re going to have to seriously consider moving rooms, okay?” Marcus said, looking at Draco who was visibly upset. “You’re gonna get AIDS in here. We cannot have a teammate giving us AIDS in the middle of a scrum.”

“Yeah, I’m not totally sure that’s  _ how _ the HIV virus is transmitted?” Cedric Diggory said, looking up at Flint from his spot at Draco’s desk.

“And, go fuck yourself, Diggory.” Flint said back to Cedric “And, as for you.” he turned back to Draco, who was staring at him nervously, and pointed at the blond with his mouth guard in hand. “You just made ‘Flint’s Shit List’.” Draco rolled his eyes, and Flint popped the mouth guard back in and led the group of boys out of the room, tossing the ripped and crumpled poster on the ground behind him.

“Coming?” Roger asked, stopping to look back at Harry, who glanced over to Draco, before looking down and grabbing his shoes, silently following the group out of the room.

Draco picked up the poster from the ground and stared down at it mournfully.

“You were wondering if there was another room you could sleep in.” Arthur said to Harry later, in his office. “But what’s the problem with the one you have now?”

“My roommate…” Harry started, trailing off. “As a new kid it can be… it can be….” Arthur tilted his head, waiting for Harry to finish, which he showed no signs of.

“It can be what?” Arthur prompted.

“It’s just… You can be…” Harry trailed off again, unable to find the words for what he was feeling.

“Go back to your room, Harry.” Arthur said. “Good man.” Harry turned and walked out of the office, eyes facing the ground. Arthur looked after him sadly.

Harry opened the door of his room to a wall constructed of cardboard boxes and other odds and ends, put up by Draco. A sign was hung on the end with two arrows. The top one, pointing to Draco’s side of the room said ‘Draco’. The other one, pointing to Harry’s side was labeled ‘Him’.

_ The Berlin Wall was built overnight. The world woke up the morning after, and there it was. Now, I’m no communist, but there’s a lot to be said for acting decisively. _

Harry walked over to his side of the room and sat down on the bed, staring at the wall that Draco had erected.

Remus Lupin walked down the halls of Saint Anthony's College the next morning. He turned into his new classroom, and slammed the door behind him, effectively cutting off the chatter of the students.

_ Did you know lizards can regrow their tails? That’s how it was in our school with English teachers. One dies, another takes its place. No big deal. _

Remus wrote on the whiteboard in large scrawling letters: Mr. Lupin. The boys resumed their noise and chaos, items being thrown around the classroom. A boy purred.

“Zacharias Smith!” Remus said, making everyone stop in their tracks. “Did you make that ridiculous noise?” everyone was silent. “Age 16.” Remus continued, starting to walk slowly between the desks. “Birthday June. Shoe size eight and a half. Fan of Formula One car racing. Allergic to milk, and therefore all dairy, surely.” he walked over to Zacharias’s desk. “Father a management consultant, mother a housewife. Bedwetter I’d imagine, and a coward for sure.” Remus scooped up Zacharias’s bag. “Congratulations Mr. Smith! You are today’s winner of the witless tool competition!” he opened the door to the room and tossed the back out, which Zacharias followed. “Be gone!” Remus shut the door on him and turned back to the class with a sigh. “Anyone else?”

The class stayed quiet, the room silent except for the awkward scraping of chairs. Remus leaned down to look at one of the boys, whose head was hung over his desk. “No?” he got back up and moved to the front of the room once more. “Good. How did I learn all that stuff about Zacharias? I read it.” he said, whispering the last sentence. “And I read about each and everyone one of you similarly. There is no limit to what you can learn from reading. And with that in mind I’m setting you an essay. The essay is due on Friday, and the title is ‘A Family Member’.” the classroom filled with sighs and groans. “And before you consider how  _ dull _ and  _ asinine _ that title is, let me tell you that I’m aware how dull and asinine it is, and I want you to own the dullness! Reveal to me who you are, if you dare.” he clapped his hands and his demeanor changed from dramatic to what one might expect an english teacher to be like.

“In the meantime, we’re going to be reading  _ Lord of the Flies _ , by Golding, a cautionary tale about giving power to an impressionable young mass of fragrant and unkempt urchins. Not that that’s ever going to happen in my class. Okay, books open please. Page one.”

Ernie began to read out loud. “The boy with fair hair lowered himself down the last few feet of the rock…” as the boy continued to read, Draco looked up at where Remus was at the front of the class.

Later that evening, Draco sat on his bed, his guitar on his lap, strumming the same chord over and over again. Three rapid knocks came onto the door. “Go away, thank you!” Draco protested, getting up and opening the door. Remus stood on the other side, a book in hand. Draco stumbled backwards.

“Whoa.” Remus said, opening his arms non threateningly.

“Uh, sorry sir. I thought you were a student.”

“No.” they both paused for a second. “What’s with the Berlin Wall?” Remus asked, gesturing at the construction in the center of the room.

“It’s a matter of necessity.” Draco responded, sitting back down.

“Right. Who’s your roommate?”

“Oh, uh, honestly I don’t know and I don’t really care.”

“Right. Well I’ve got a delivery for, uh…” Remus paused, not sure what to say. He gestured over at Harry’s side of the room with the book, setting it down on the wall. “No way you can make him feel welcome, huh?”

“Yeah, see, he’s a rugby player, so believe me, my friendship would be a hindrance.”

“That’s quite a persecution complex you’ve got going on there.”

“Thank you?”

“You gonna let me hear something?” Remus asked, looking down at the guitar.

“Well, I can’t play and even if I could I don’t think I’d play anything you like.”

“Just play something.” Remus whispered. Draco moved his hands and strummed out the D chord three times. “Okay so that’s D.” Remus said.

“That’s D.” Draco agreed, playing it again.

“Is D your only-”

“D’s my only chord, yeah.”

“I see. Okay, well…” Remus moved forward towards him and pointed at his hand. “Lift your finger up to that one, higher there. Yep, now play.” Draco played the different chord. “Now you know another chord.” Remus whispered dramatically as he walked out of the room with a smile. “See ya.” the door closed, and Draco started to strum between the two chords.

Harry ran across the field, letting himself into the rugby locker room. He tugged on his shoes as quickly as he could, as Gilderoy came into the room. Harry looked up at the Coach.

“Sir, I’m really really sorry. I know I’m late. It’s just I couldn’t find my boots.” Harry stammered through his apology as Gilderoy looked at him with a smile. “I thought I put them in my bag and I thought my bag was in my classroom, but-”

“Harry.” Gilderoy interrupted. “Relax. You’re new. It happens. The boys are running drills out there.” he gestured outside with his head. “Get ready, I’ll go out with you, get you introduced.” Harry leaned back down, continuing to tie his shoes. “Once you cross that white line, Harry,” Gilderoy continued, “I want you to concentrate on just one thing. Express yourself.” Gilderoy smiled warmly at him. Harry looked up at him and let a faint smile cross his face. “Good to go?”

“Yeah.” Harry answered.

“After you.” Gilderoy gestured at the door of the locker room, and Harry got up, setting his glasses on the bench, leaving to go to the field. Gilderoy paused for a moment, then followed him out.

The grass was green as Gilderoy led Harry to meet the rest of the team. The boys stood in a circle, and Gilderoy blew his whistle to break them apart. “Everyone, this is Harry.” he said, clapping him on the back. “Harry won the junior cup with St Barts last year, kicking nineteen points in the final, was it? I asked him up with us seniors so he sees what we’re made of. Give him something to aspire to. Also, give Montague a bit to aspire to.” he turned back to Harry. “You’ve met our captain, Roger. Apart from him, far too many names to remember, but I’ll give you the gist. Michael Corner, prop. Gregory Goyle, current place kicker. We get our speed from this fellow.” Gilderoy started to simply point at the players instead of name them. “Scrum half one, two. Chief wrecking ball.” he pointed at Flint. “Okay! Line out, first against seconds! Harry, play at ten for the firsts. Goldstein! Where’s Goldy?”

“Here!” Anthony spoke up.

“Defend it.” Gilderoy nodded as everyone got to their places, moving to the sidelines. He shouted a command and blew his whistle. Harry popped in his mouth guard, and the game started. He got tossed the ball, and kicked it away from himself. Flint tackled him, and Gilderoy watched from the sidelines as Harry rolled to get on top, punching Flint squarely in the face. After three hits, he got dragged away from the bleeding boy.

“You’re an animal!” Flint yelled, as Gilderoy grinned. “You’re a fucking monster!” Flint yelled again.

Gilderoy blew his whistle. “Goldstein, come back in for Harry. Harry, take a break.”

“Take a break?” Harry asked, giving a breathy laugh. “We’ve only just begun.”

Gilderoy chuckled. “Okay. Reset!” Harry grinned, putting the mouth guard back in his mouth with a bloody hand.

The game continued, with Harry playing unbelievably. Gilderoy watched in stupor, whistle falling out of his mouth as he laughed. Harry, on the field, smiled his first real smile since he had come to Saint Anthony's.

“Is it broken?” Cedric asked Flint, who groaned.

“Of course it’s fucking broken!” 

“Well done lads!” Gilderoy exclaimed coming into the locker room, smiling. “And don’t worry about that, Flint. You were never much of a looker anyway.” the boys all laughed. “Anyone seen Harry Potter?” he looked around the locker room.

“He never came in.” Bletchly responded. Gilderoy nodded and left the locker room stepping back out into the twilight air. Harry was still on the field, setting down a holder for the ball so he could kick it. Gilderoy watched as he kicked it up and over the goal.

“I told you to reveal who you are to me.” Remus said, the class after the essays were due. “I set an essay title for you because I wanted to find out about you, and there are some excellent essays here. But there was one that stood out above all. Draco Malfoy. Do you want to get up here and read it in front of the class?”

“I’m actually okay, thanks.” Draco replied, and Remus nodded. “I mean, thank you, but, um, I’d just prefer not to.”

“I can appreciate that. But I think you should.” Draco sighed, getting up out of his seat. The class, par to course, made a choir of purrs. “The next person to make a single solitary sound of any sort is in hideous trouble.” Remus warned, and the noises stopped. “Go ahead, Draco.”

“A Family Member.” Draco began. “I have this cousin whose name’s Kevin. And I’m pretty sure he’s destined for Heaven. He’s always spotlessly dressed. Clean and neat and totally smooth.” Remus reached under his desk and pulled out a boombox. “He likes to wear this-” Remus started the music, which lined up exactly with what Draco was saying, word for word. “-fur lined sheepskin jacket.” Draco stopped and looked over at Remus.

“Keep going please.”

“Kevin we’re just not the same. Oh my perfect cousin.” the class burst into a fit of giggles, while Harry looked up at Draco, a concerned look on his face. Draco continued to read the lyrics, mumbling as the class roared in laughter.

Remus sighed, an upset look on his face. He switched off the boombox. Draco continued to read, “He thinks I’m a bit of a cabbage, because I hate university.”

“Stop, stop, stop.” Remus took the essay out of his hand. “Sit down.” he said gently, and Draco went back to his seat, head hund, eyes fixed firmly on the desk.

“Listen to you, the baying crowd.” Remus said. “Bleating like sheep. Why do you assume this lesson isn’t for you?” he shook his head sadly. “Never, ever,  _ ever _ use a borrowed voice!” his voice raised in pitch and tone, and when he finished the sentence he threw the essay. “You’re all individuals-” he continued, but the ringing school bell cut him off, and the pupils clamored to get up, grab their bags, and leave the classroom.

Remus sighed, looking resigned. He stepped back, carding his hands through his hair. “Stop, stop!” he yelled, raising his arms. The boys stopped and looked at him. “You spend your whole lives being someone else, who’s gonna be you?!” he shouted. They all looked at him for a second. “Get out!” he waved his arm at the door, and the boys started to move again as he sat down at his desk, resting his head in his hand and massaging his temples.

Harry, later that night, shifted on his bed on his side of the wall as Draco’s music drifted through the room. He looked through the gap between boxes at Draco’s face, looking down, concentrating. Harry stood up, peering over the conglomeration at him. He cleared his throat. Draco didn’t notice, so Harry cleared his throat again.

Draco looked up at him. “I’ll turn it down.” he said, reaching over.

“No, not that.” Harry stopped him. Draco looked back up at him. “Today, that was pretty cool. I liked the song.”

Draco looked at him incredulously. “Could you go straight to Hell, please?”

“I liked it. A lot. Why do you like so much old stuff?”

“Well, because modern life is shit.”

Harry chuckled. “I hear that.” he looked at Draco’s face again, at the blond’s downturned eyes. He looked away.

“So I saw Flint’s face.” Draco said.

“How’d you know I did that?”

“Word gets around. Even to me.”

Harry smiled. “Can I ask you a question?” Draco looked back at him, like he was curious why he was even asked. “It’s personal,” he added. Draco nodded. “Are you gay?”

Draco gave a humorless laugh. “Don’t worry, Harry, I’m not going ‘bum you’ in the night, all right?”

“No, sorry I-”

“Was that it? That was your question, was it?”

Harry looked like he was going to say something for a second, then he just nodded and sat back down on his bed. On his side of the wall Draco nodded to himself, unsurprised.

“It’s not really the music.” Harry spoke. “It’s more the story.” Draco looked up, studying the rugby player through the gaps in the wall. “How someone can write about themselves like that, about their family. It’s mad isn’t it?”

Draco made eye contact with him through the crack. “Well, yeah. The madder the better.”

Harry nodded, and Draco’s eyebrows scrunched together in thought.

“So you’re not just taking a piss?” he confirmed. Harry got up quickly, looking over at Draco. “I liked the song,” he confirmed.

Draco nodded to himself. “Alright, come with me then.” he said, getting off his bed. Harry smiled and followed him out of the room.

Draco led him to a spot hidden in the school, in the basement. The walls were covered in colorful graffiti over white wood, and the shelves were lined in old books and records. Draco’s guitar sat on a wooden crate.

“I didn’t know this was here.” Harry said.

Draco pulled a record out and handed it to him. “I found these last year.”

“Vinyl.” Harry said, taking the record out of Draco’s hand.

“Look at those faces.” Draco pulled out a record, which had a cover of three people, emblazoned in black and white.

“What were they thinking?” Harry said, sparing a glance at him.

“Well, none of them ever cared about the stuff that matters here, that’s for sure.” Draco said bitterly, handing it to Harry and grabbing his guitar. Harry looked down at the record, and looked over to Draco, who had positioned himself with his back to Harry, holding the guitar like he knew how to play it. “Man, I can’t wait to get out of here.” he continued.

“What are you going to be?” Harry asked, letting his eyes flicker over Draco’s form.

“I am  _ basically _ unemployable, but I’ll be free.” Harry laughed.

“My uncle and I used to sail before he… before he became interested in other things. I remember sitting at the front of the boat. That felt free. Flying….”

“You still got the boat?” Draco asked, turning to face him.

“It’s still there I think. Rusting away.” Harry looked away sadly.

“So what’s it like to punch someone in the face?” Draco asked, diverting the topic.

Harry didn’t answer him, instead setting down the record and taking the guitar from Draco’s hands and playing a chord.

“Woah, show me that.” Draco said, taking the guitar back and trying to position his hands like Harry. “How do you know a chord?”

“I can like music, you know. Not all rugby players are the same.”

“So you don’t have a ‘Shit List’?” Draco asked, looking up from the guitar.

“I think you’ve been taken off that list.” Harry admitted. He looked up at Draco, who didn’t respond, having found the new chord. He turned and walked away, still in the room, strumming it impatiently. Harry chuckled after him, looking back down at the records.

_ I never knew I’d been lonely until I found a friend. Not that Harry and I were peas in a pod. I mean, I’d never met someone who liked to run around as much as I liked to sit around and do nothing. My defenses were coming down, including the Berlin Wall, and - I’d never say it out loud - but it felt pretty good. Flint had suddenly stopped bullying me, and I no longer dreamed of being expelled. Despite my best intentions, I began to feel like I fit in. _

Harry sat on the steps, staring into the distance, as Draco walked up behind him. “All packed for break?” Draco asked as he flopped down next to him on the stairs.

“Yeah.” Harry said. He pointed at Draco’s chest, where he was very obviously missing a pocket. “What happened?”

“I was pocketed.”

“Again? How many times is that since September?”

“Er, three. No - four. Yeah. How many have you had?” he looked over at Harry expectantly.

“I’ve never been pocketed.” Harry replied.

“You’ve never been pocketed?” Draco said disbelievingly.

“I’ve never been pocketed.” Harry confirmed, nodding at Draco.

“That’s not right.” Draco shook his head at Harry’s small laugh, and picked up the white gift bag he had been carrying, handing it to Harry. “Anyway, this is for you.”

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“A birthday present.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Well, I wasn’t going to get you anything, obviously, but… my mum said seeing how we’re roommates and all, you know, probably should. It’s a harmonica.”

Harry studied the harmonica in his hand, smiling at Draco. “Thanks, Draco. You know it isn’t my birthday yet, right?”

“Motherfucker!” Draco groaned. “Oh, and I even have one more present for you actually.” Harry turned to look at him, and Draco grabbed onto his front pocket.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I, though?” 

“Draco…” Harry warned, and Draco ripped the pocket off of his shirt, getting up quickly and out of reach of Harry.

“Have a good birthday!” he said, as Harry sighed and laughed.

“It’s not my birthday!” he called after the departing blond. “Bastard.” he muttered fondly, shaking his head and laughing quietly again. He went to put his harmonica in the nonexistent pocket, and then groaned when he realized.

_ Mr. Lupin began to work with us as a team. And we all loved him for it. Still, when an annual variety show was announced at the local girl’s school, no one raised their hands. But Lupin had heard us messing around on those old guitars, and said, no, insisted, that Harry and I should play a song. _

Remus came down into the basement, a record under his arm, to Harry strumming viciously on his guitar. He made an unpleased look on his face as he came to stand in front of them. “All right, lads, how’s it going?” he asked.

“Extremely bad”

“Awful, thanks”, the answers came from Harry and Draco respectively.

Remus nodded. “And why is that?”

“Well,” Draco began, “We’re not these amazing Spanish guitar players, so we can’t do an instrumental. We have to do a song, but neither of us wants to be the singer.”

“I’m definitely not doing it.” Harry confirmed.

“Me neither.”

“Why not the both of you?”

“What, like Simon & Garfunkel?” Draco asked.

Remus nodded. “Yeah, like Simon & Garfunkel.”

Draco laughed nervously. “I don’t think so.”

“Not cool enough for you, Draco?” Remus asked, going to set his record on the record player.

“Honestly? No, not really.”

Remus looked at him with an incredulous face. “Well you, young man, need to learn about what is much more important than cool. And that is…” he set the needle on the record “And that is…”the song started playing “What is beautiful.”

Draco and Harry looked at him, thinking for a minute, before turning to face each other as the singers started singing. Remus closed his eyes and bobbed his head to the music. He raised his hand as the harmonies played, and the boys stared at him in confusion.

“High… low…” he brought up his lower hand to meet his higher one in the middle. “Perfect.”

“Oh, but sir, it’s so high.” Draco complained.

“ _ So high _ .” Remus mocked, moving to leave the room as Greg thundered down the stairs. “Don’t gallop, Mr. Goyle, you aren’t a horse.”

“Harry, training!” Greg interrupted them, and Harry got up, setting the guitar down and following behind him. “Ten minutes, man. Come on!” Harry hurried after him, leaving Draco alone. Draco smiled softly to himself and bent back over the guitar.

_ The school rugby team embarked on a long unbeaten road. And the local papers put it down to my friend. The new star right-half. But the players worshipped Gilderoy. _

“Stop!” Gilderoy yelled as the players trained. He walked over to Seamus. “Congratulations Number 9! You have an announcement to make?” he asked.

“No.” Seamus said.

“You do.”

“No.”

“You do!” Gilderoy said, nodding and laughing. “Come on, number 9. Everybody, I just noticed number 9 tackling and it’s clear that he has something else on his mind. So I’m guessing it’s because you and your boyfriend are engaged to be married!” he turned to Seamus, feigning excitement, clapping his hands loudly. He stopped his playacting and grabbed up the tackling bag, uprighting it. “The hell are you doing breastfeeding a tackling bag?” he shoved the bag into Seamus’ arms angrily. “Hit it!” he stepped back and ran at the bag, tackling it to the ground and knocking Seamus to the ground. “Are you afraid to be hit? Go sign up for the school opera! I’m sure they’re short a few tavern wenches.”

Seamus, lying on his back, groaned and held his stomach.

“Everyone, gather round.” Gilderoy said, beckoning the player to him. He kneeled down, and they kneeled around him. “Time to get serious. It is the nature of this school that you hear a lot of talk about ‘opening your mind’ and the ‘value of a round education’. Bullshit! We’re about to walk onto a battlefield, and once we do, the last thing we need is empathy for your fellow man, to be ‘feeling’ things. Harry is leading us out, and he will have a target on his back, so from now on men, you’re not a team and this isn’t a game. It’s a war zone. And you’re in the army!” he held Harry up by him, so that the players weren’t only kneeling to him, they were kneeling to Harry, who stood there, unsure of what to do.

Harry sat in the basement, playing around on his guitar as Draco snuck up behind him. He blew a quick breath of air into Harry’s curly hair, making him startle. Harry turned to look at Draco with a laugh.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Draco asked.

“Shouldn’t you?” Harry countered as Draco sat down across from him. 

“I’m not the one playing in the quarter final tomorrow.”

“That is why I’m not sleeping.” Harry drummed his hands on the top of his guitar. “I can’t. My nerves.”

Draco gave him a sympathetic smile. “You’re gonna win.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t know the first thing about rugby but… I feel it in my bones.”

Harry smiled. “Are you gonna be there?” he asked.

“It’s not really  _ my _ team.” Draco responded. Harry nodded sadly, looking back down at his guitar. Draco swallowed, eyes flicking down over Harry’s slumped form.

“This one time, before you came here, one of your teammates flushed my head down the toilet.” Draco nodded. “So that is not going in my autobiography.” Harry laughed. “You’re better off without me. I will be rooting for you though.” they smiled at each other.

“Single file, gentlemen, single file!” Arthur said the next day as he commanded the boys onto the busses to take them to the rugby game. Draco stood in the line, a jarring splotch of black around the purple and green. He got off with the other cheering kids when the bus reached the stadium, turning away and leaving them behind.

After the game, the team poured into the locker room, cheering and screaming with victory.

“Harry, your old man’s out at the bar!” Miles said. The team quieted to listen to him, but started cheering again when Miles added “Says he wants to buy us all a drink!” Harry didn’t cheer, he stared blankly off, only feigning a smile when Michael shoved him softly.

“Watch out, coming through!” Vernon said, carrying a tray of pints through the mess of school boys in the bar. He came into the center of a small circle of the rugby players, including Harry. “Mind yourselves, boys. Now have yourself a drink. Get stuck in lads!” he looked up at Harry, who hadn’t taken a glass from the tray like the other kids. “Have a drink with your uncle, son.”

“I’m fine with water, thanks.” Harry responded.

“Come near to me, I won’t hurt you.” Vernon took the water out of Harry’s hand and replaced it with the pint. “We can’t toast the victory without a man’s drink!” Harry looked up at him. “To my nephew the athlete, and to all you fine young men. Cheers!” the boys answered with a chorus of cheers, and the glasses clinked against each other. Harry let himself smile, tapping his glass to the others and taking a drink.

_ Harry later told me that if he hadn’t had that first drink, his night would have ended very differently _ .

The team and Vernon kept drinking, downing the pints and yelling, cheering. They were slurring, and laughing.

“Your uncle is a complete inspiration!” Flint told Harry, drunk with his tie loose around his neck and his breath ripe with alcohol.

“The best thing about watching you play today was realizing that all that rubbish in the last school was just rubbish.” Vernon said as Harry led him out to his car, using his nephew as a walking stick to stay upright. He stopped him, and they turned face to face, standing on the sidewalk. “That was the real you today, huh.” Harry started walking, and Vernon grabbed his arm to stop him. “I loved you today.” Harry turned back to face him. “I love you again. You felt like my blood again, Like Dudley.” Vernon was grinning. Harry was not. “Not that eejit from before. Come on, jump in, I’ll give you a lift back. We’ll have the chats.”

Harry nodded. “I’m getting the train.” Vernon’s smile fell as he watched him walk away.

“Ah… son…” he said, dismayed.

Draco, away from them, ran around a corner, and peed in an alley.

_ After walking for hours I found a cinema showing a subtitled film about a nun which was too long. I ended up late for the coaches back to school, and that’s when I saw Harry. The idea was that I would surprise him. _

Draco zipped his fly and turned, walking around the corner where he had seen Harry. The rugby player made his way into a club, carrying his jacket over his shoulder. The bouncer stepped to the side to let him in. Draco walked over to the door of the club, but the man stopped him.

“Far too young, sorry pal.”

“No, no, he’s my friend.” Draco protested.

“He’s older than you.” Draco glanced over at the door.

“What kind of bar is this?” he asked the bouncer.

“A bar for adults.”

“Okay. What kind of adults?”

The man sighed. “Gay adults.” he whispered, as if it should be obvious to Draco, who blinked, nodded, and scoffed.

“Totally. Just double-checking.” he nodded awkwardly, and the security guard nodded back. “I’m just gonna wait for him. He’ll be out soon.” Draco stepped back away from the door, as the man stared at him with a judgemental stare. He whistled and made a small fake smile at the guard. Harry did not come out. After a minute his face fell, and the bouncer quirked an eyebrow at him as Draco turned his head. After more seconds passed, it started to dawn on Draco.

“I, uh, better head.” Draco said, pointing over his shoulder at nowhere in particular. “Yeah, it’s getting late.” he took a deep breath and stared at the door like something new was going to happen, nodded to himself, and turned and left, still looking over his shoulder as if Harry was going to emerge suddenly.

_ All this time, I thought I was the only one on the outside. Turns out, I couldn’t have been more wrong. _

Inside the bar, Harry moved through the crowds of men and women with their partners, an easy smile on his face. The lighting was calm, in shades of blue and purple, and he grinned happily. But his face fell as he saw something across the bar.

Remus sat at a table, a pint sitting by him. Across from him was a man in a leather jacket with long black hair. He smiled, leaning forward and kissing the man softly, tucking a piece of his long hair behind his ear. His own smile fell as he took a sip of his beer, looking up and seeing Harry across the bar, looking at him. Harry looked down and turned away, leaving the bar. Remus stood up, looking after him, and collapsed back in his seat, running his hands on his face and leaning on his elbows as his boyfriend put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked back up, after Harry, and winced.

“Welcome to the Regional Express.” the train PA system announced as Harry sat in his seat, rubbing his hands over his face. “This is a non stop system…” it continued as Harry let out a deep breath, Remus coming up the aisle behind him.

“Oh, hi Harry. You’re on the train.” Remus said, sounding breathless and defeated as he took the seat next to him. “I nearly missed the bloody thing,” he continued. “So congratulations on today, I believe you played really well.”

“Thanks sir, but I actually missed a few kicks.” Harry responded. “Not my best.”

“Oh did you? Did you now? Okay.” Remus nodded. “But still you got the quarter-”

“Semi. Semifinals.”

Remus acted shocked and nodded again. “No pressure then.”

Harry laughed nervously. “No.” they sat silently for a few beats, the awkward tension permeating the air. Remus started to say something a few times, but obviously thought better of it, turning his head away from Harry.

“I might have a cup of tea or something.” he finally said. Harry stared at him, like he didn’t know what to say in response. “I like a cup of tea, me. I’m not much of a coffee drinker, but I like- I like a cup of tea- or a pot!” he waved his hands, trying to imitate the shape of a pot. “A nice big pot! A pot of tea. A nice big pot of tea.” he trailed off and pressed his palms into his eyelids.

“Sir, before? It’s not like it seemed-” Harry said.

“What? No, no no-”

“I needed the loo, and it was the nearest bar-”

“Yeah you know my friend, my friend there, Harry, he’s very, very affectionate.”

“There’s no signs out front.”

“Yes, very poorly signposted. And he’s Italian, he’s all over-” Remus mimed kissing. “You know… Jesus.” Remus flopped his head back onto the seat. “Harry, I think a certain amount of discretion…”

“I’m never going to say anything, sir.” Harry assured him.

“About anything.”

“Ever.”

“Ever, okay.”

“Ever, sir. Okay.”

“Alright.” they turned away from each other, the awkward silence that was only broken by the train’s noise once again filling the air.

“I’m gonna get a cup of tea.” Remus finally said. “Do you want a cup of tea?” He looked down the aisle and glanced back at Harry. “Do you want one?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Uh, okay.” Remus got up, moving back down the aisle. Harry glanced after him, and nodded.

They returned to the ivy covered school chatting away. Above them, Gilderoy watched from a window, sipping whiskey. He swallowed and turned away as the student and teacher went their separate ways.

“Okay, have you learned your part?” Harry asked Draco in the basement, the next day.

“I have.” Draco responded, nodding.

“Draco, there’s no avoiding this any longer so… just go for it.”

“One, two, three.” Harry started, but Draco interrupted him.

“Sorry, Harry, before we start…”

“What?” Harry asked impatiently.

“Just…” Draco tapped his finger on the guitar, nervously looking down, away from Harry. “Erm.” Harry blinked at him, and prompted him to go on. “Nothing.” Draco finally said. “Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Harry studied him for a second, but then cleared his throat and repositioned the guitar. “One, two, three, four.” he started to strum, and Draco looked up at him, lost in the peaceful way Harry looked at the guitar. Harry started to sing. Draco did not.

“You made me do it by myself!” Harry protested.

“Sorry, I just got-”

“Teamwork, Draco!”

Draco made eye contact and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Are you ready? One, two, three, four.” this time they sang together, but Draco got lost, starting to sing Harry’s low part.

“I thought we agreed that you would go high and I would go low.” Harry said, irritated.

“We did.” Draco confirmed.

“And I thought you said you learned your part.”

“And I did. I have- I mean I have learned my part, it’s just… all I can hear in my head is your voice, and you know, it makes me want to follow you.”

“Well don’t. Sing your own part. Or I can high and you can go low-”

“No I can  _ be _ high.”

“Okay, then be high!” Harry snapped.

Draco nodded. “Okay.”

“One, two, three, four.” This time, when they started to play and sing together they both hit their parts, singing together peacefully.

“I think that was all right.” Harry said when they finished with the first verse

“Yeah.” Draco said, he looked down at his guitar, and Harry gazed at him, glancing away when Draco looked back up.

Harry was missing every kick he took, the ball flying past the goal. Gilderoy cleared his throat and groaned. “Stop, stop, stop, stop, stop.” he said when Harry went to pick up the ball again. He sighed and walked over to him. “Harry, sport, kicking takes a quiet mind. You need to have nothing going on in there. Okay?” Harry looked down at his feet. “So what’s eating you?”

“Sir… sometimes I just feel like a robot.” Harry admitted. “Doing  _ this _ again and again.” Gilderoy exaggeratedly nodded. “Maybe there’s a little more to life than…” Gilderoy looked at him expectantly and clapped his hand on his shoulder.

“You have a rare gift. And you need to use it. And recently I’ve noticed you hanging around with… different… people, which is fine I suppose. Whatever. But here’s the thing son. You lie down with dogs, you get fleas. Have you identified the fleas?” Harry opened his mouth as if to speak, but Gilderoy interrupted him. “Don’t complicate this, son. There’s you, and that, and those.” he clapped his hands. “Now come on!”

Harry sighed, and kicked the ball again. It missed, and Harry groaned. “For fuck’s sake.” Gilderoy muttered.

Gilderoy entered Arthur’s office with a scowl on his face. “Good morning Gilderoy!” Arthur greeted him in a booming voice.

“Arthur.” Gilderoy said. “A question. Have you run a background check on Remus Lupin?”

“And why would I do that?”

“Lupin’s not married, is he?”

“What are you asking?”

“I don’t know what I’m asking, only I’m sure you noticed that Harry Potter’s level is dropping. He misses a number of kicks in the match yesterday and then very late last night I encounter him sauntering back to school. Drunk. In the company of a certain Remus Lupin. I won’t shit you Arthur, I’m concerned.”

“Did you not take the boys for a celebratory glass of beer last night?” Arthur asked.

“Yes, but that was just-”

“But nothing. If you don’t know what you’re asking, Gilderoy, be careful what you’re insinuating.”

“Arthur, I need your support. Everything hinges on this. We - the team - we need it.”

“Remus Lupin is a teacher in this school just like you and I. This is the team.”

“Lupin’s like me?” Gilderoy laughed. “No. I don’t think so. Listen, forget it. It’s fine. I just wanted to put my concerns on the record. In case. That’s all.”

“In case of what?” Arthur demanded, starting to make his way to the door.

“Boys Harry’s age are highly impressionable. You know this. Certain types of people as teachers, around kids, once you know for certain those certain types of people are those certain types of people, I mean I would consider myself a Christian and a liberal, but…”

“But?” Arthur said, reaching for the handle.

“But those certain aforementioned types of people and those certain types of behaviors are seriously not cool, not cool near children. You know this.”

“Thank you, Gilderoy.” Arthur interrupted.

“I mean, you have to know that, Arthur!” Gilderoy insisted.

“Thank you, Gilderoy.” Arthur repeated.

“Thank you, Arthur.” Gilderoy muttered, leaving the office. Arthur shut the door behind him with a sigh.

“Okay!” Remus said. “This is a lesson in projection. What? In projection!” he spread his voice across the grounds from where he stood on top of a roof, looking down at Harry and Draco. “Yes. Move back.” he gestured, and the boys stepped back further into the space they were standing in with their guitars. “Keep going, keep going, keep going, keep going, keep going, keep going, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop, okay. When you sing tomorrow you can’t whimper like some weird little field-mice. Okay? You’ve got to project! Reveal to me who you are! If you dare. Let your voices bounce off the walls! All right. Begin.”

They started to play, quietly.

“I can’t hear this!” Remus interrupted. They increased the volume slightly. “At all.” they continued to increase. “What? Louder! Yes. Louder. Louder! Louder, come on! Better!” he finally decided, walking away from them as they played.

“Oh there’s definitely more I can do, you know. Flexibility.” Flint said to Gilderoy as they walked along the wall separating them from where Draco and Harry were. “Conditioning and-”

“That’s your outhalf there.” Gilderoy interrupted, and Flint looked around the corner at where the two were. “Have you any idea why Harry left his old school?” Gildero asked him.

“No.”

“You have a cousin in St Barts, don’t you?”

“Well, Blaise’s actually a second cousin, but… actually I was meant to go there myself, but when my mum died-”

“He’s letting all our work go to waste. I wouldn’t be happy about that if I were on his team. Matter of fact, I’d be raging.” Gilderoy walked away, and Flint looked after him, realization dawning on his face as he put his mouthguard in his mouth.

Harry was in the showers, rubbing his hands through his curly black hair. Flint walked up to him, bracing himself on the wall by the showers as he spoke.

“Ah, there’s Harry. Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, um, why are you hanging out with that freak Draco?”

Harry scoffed. “‘That freak Draco’ is my mate.”

“Your mate? How?” Flint asked, implication sneaking into his question.

“He’s my roommate, Flint.”

“Oh, okay. Got it.”

“Everything okay up there?” Harry asked.

“Everything’s really good, Harry, it’s just I have a cousin in St. Barts. Well, second cousin. But I know everyone says you left your old school because, I don’t know, you were fighting all the time. But I was talking to him and I was wondering what was the, what was the reason, you know, for all this fighting? Why the fighting, you know?”

“What do you want, Flint?”

“Harry, I promised my mother on her deathbed that I would do everything in my power to win that cup. I’m not the only one that’s noticing that you’re spending a lot of time with the wrong kind of people. What we’re gonna do is - you’re gonna pick your company a little bit better. You’re gonna focus on the semi-final and we’ll let the rumors from your old school be rumors from your old school.” Harry nodded slightly. “Yeah? Good. Good chat.” Flint patted Harry on the back, walking away. “Good chat.” Harry silently turned back to the shower wall, slamming his hand against the white ceramic.

_ When I woke up on the day of the talent show, and there was no sign of Harry, I wasn’t that surprised. If you play for the rugby team, you’re up early for training. You get to skip all sorts of classes, especially when it gets to the semi-final. You’re carrying the hopes of the school on your shoulders, you see. Is an education more important than that? But I was worried by six p.m. _

“Okay, look, he’s not coming, all right?” Remus told Draco as they waited backstage.

“Sir, I can’t do it on my own.”

“You can. You can do it.”

“So give it up for Dean.” the announcer, Professor McGonagall, said as the act before Draco’s came on stage. Dean came out on stage and bowed as Draco and Remus watched. He started a dance routine. They stared, transfixed.

“Sir, he’s a genius.” Draco said.

“He’s not, he’s not a genius.” Remus protested. Dean did a spinning trick and launched right back into the dance after landing. “It’s not about who is and who isn’t the genius.” Remus revised. “It’s about- it’s about- it’s about taking part… How’s he doing that?” Dean bowed, and the audience cheered loudly. “All you need to do is go out there and let them hear your voice.” Remus said, looking Draco in the eye as McGonagall took the stage again “That’s all. That’s all you need to do. Okay?”

“From two current Saint Anthony’s College students.” McGonagall finished, clapping politely.

“Okay, good luck.” Remus said. “Don’t be nervous. You’re fine.” When Draco was onstage, eyes away from Remus, the English teacher hid his face in his hands.

“One of us, actually.” Draco amended as the microphone howled soft feedback. “Turns out there’s only one of us.” he started to strum the guitar.

“Oh Jesus.” Remus muttered.

Draco started to sing, the high part of a duet, his voice pitched impossibly, hilariously, high. The audience was silent, but as the song progressed giggles started to break out among the crowd.

Draco continued to sing, face losing whatever hope it had left. Remus winced and rubbed a hand over his face.

“Hey there, Gilderoy.” Remus greeted Gilderoy after the disastrous talent show. “Can I have a word?”

“It’s a free country.” Gilderoy replied, eating an apple. Remus nodded nervously.

“So you must be pretty excited. Quarterfinals.”

“Semi-finals.”

“Semi-finals. It’s exciting, yeah?”

“It’s no time for complacency.”

“No. No, quite.” Remus agreed. “So listen, Harry, he didn’t show up to sing at the variety show.”

“He had kicking practice.” Gilderoy explained brusquely.

“Oh, you knew about it.”

“Well, in semi-final week our outhalf had more important things on his mind.”

“You sure it wasn’t you who had other things on his mind?”

Gilderoy chucked the half eaten apple across the field and turned to look at Remus. “I’d consider you something of a Trojan horse, Lupin.”

“Not sure where this is going, Gilderoy.”

“Encouraging Harry Potter to become a singer? One week before the semi-final of the senior cup?”

“Come on, I’m trying to help him.” Gilderoy nodded and stepped forward, placing his mouth by Remus’s ear. Remus turned his face away, disgusted.

“You can have the weird ones with the dyed hair and the banjos. I’ve got fuck-all use for them. No interest. I’ll say this to you once. You’d do well to let that boy focus on his rugby. You get me?” Gilderoy pulled away, and Remus pointed towards his mouth.

“You’ve got some apple right there.” Remus gave an awkward grimace and turned away, glancing over his shoulder at Gilderoy as he walked away.

Draco paused by an open door and listened as a reporter gave the news of the semi-final. “Meanwhile, in school rugby, a difficult two halves from Harry Potter. Inspirational with the ball in hand, but trouble off the kicking team. Despite those penalty misses, Saint Anthony’s college progresses to their first senior final in over a decade.” Draco walked away, acting like he wasn’t upset.

_ Anyone who’s ever been young, so that’s everyone ever, knows just what humiliation feels like. But worse than the embarrassment was Harry’s vanishing act. He had disappeared from my life. And I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but… I missed him. We were friends. I wasn’t going to give that up without a fight. _

The rugby team was congregated in the same spot that Harry and Draco had practiced their singing. They were yelling and making general noise, holding large torches as Draco approached them.

“Halt. Who goes there?” Flint asked, walking up to Draco with his large torch. “Oh.” he said, upon seeing who it was. “Can I help you?”

“I was looking for Harry.” Draco said. “I wanted to say well done. Is he in there?”

“Oh um-” Flint poked his head into the space. “Nope.” he lied. “He’s actually not in there. I’m really sorry.”

“Maybe I’ll just check.” Draco walked forward, but Flint blocked him.

“Yeah, well, maybe instead of checking you could just piss off? Does that sound like a plan?” He pushed Draco back, but the blond moved forward again, causing Flint to push him again. “I’m not going to tell you again to piss off, okay?”

Draco punched him in the nose.

“Oh! Fuck!” Flint groaned, as Draco bent over, cradling his hand. Flint punched back, hitting Draco squarely in the jaw. Draco tried to enter the party again, but Flint blocked him again. “Uh-uh, no!” the larger boy insisted.

“Draco, leave it.” Seamus commanded, pulling the two apart.

“Flint, come on man, just leave him.” Roger said, pulling him back.

“Thank you!” Draco said. “I want to go see my friend. Harry.”

“He is not your friend.” Flint said, emphasizing each word and moving towards Draco. “He’s your roommate. He had no choice but to hang out with you. Do you get it?” he poked Draco in the face. He turned back to the group of boys, to Harry. “Harry, this little, I don’t know, vole appears to be very much in love with you. Now I’ve told him you’re not that way inclined but… maybe I’m wrong. Am I wrong, Harry?”

“Go back to the fucking dorm, Draco.” Harry said, voice hoarse and tinged in sadness. Draco’s mouth opened and his eyebrows moved together, obviously hurt.

“Yeah, go back to the dorm, faggot.” Flint said.

“Tell them, Harry.” Draco begged, looking at his friend through pleading and teary eyes.

“Go back to the fucking dorm, Draco.” Harry said, striding forward, his face no longer sad or apologetic.

“Tell them.”

_ I only meant for Harry to tell his teammates that we were friends, but looking back, maybe he thought I knew more than that. _

“Tell them.”

“I’m warning you.”

“Tell them-” Harry shoved Draco to the ground, which he hit with a thud. “Fuck.” Draco said, getting back up, still cradling his hurt hand. He started to walk away, looking back dismayed and hurt at Harry.

“Et tu, Harry?” Flint mocked the leaving boy. Flint grabbed onto Harry, who was looking resolutely at the ground. “This is some Ides of March shit right here-” Harry shoved him away, making him fall to the concrete.

“Fuck off, Flint.” Harry strode into the party once again, and Flint walked over to Roger, grinning after where Draco had walked off.

“See you later, Draco!” he called out joyously. Draco continued to walk away, head hung as the team made rowdy and happy noises behind him.

When he reached his dorm he leaned back against the door and moved to his bed slowly, feet shuffling on the floor. He laid down on his back, cradling a bloody tissue to his chest. He switched off the light, and in the morning when he woke up there was a purple and green plastic sheet separating the two sides of the room.

He sat up, facing the sheet where the school’s coat of arms sat squarely in the middle, staring back at him.

Draco got up and went over to where Harry’s bed was, pushing aside the tarp. He felt the mattress. It was cold. He picked up a picture that was lying by the side of Harry’s bed. It was of Harry, younger and beaming unrestrained, on a boat labeled the Aquarius.

In English class, Remus was reading out loud. “Those masterful images because complete, grew in pure mind, but out of what began? Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can, old iron old bones, old rags, that raving slut who keeps the till. Now that my ladder’s gone, I must lie down where all the ladders start. In the foul rag and bone shop-” he was interrupted by the sharp knocks on the classroom door. Remus looked down sadly, before looking over at the door. “Come in,” he said.

Two boys in purple windbreakers emblazoned with a SA in green came in, holding megaphones. One handed a note to Remus.

Remus opened and read it, and gestured at the class. “Go on then.” he said, moving away from the boys.

“Everyone up!” Percy demanded through his megaphone. “Follow us to the gym!

_ Compulsory cheerleading practice ahead of the final. Pretty much the last place on Earth I wanted to be. Chanting badly written songs with no tune with a bunch of loudmouthed boys. _

The class files out of the door after Percy and Montague. Remus watches them looking defeated. Draco paused in front of him, like he wanted to stay, but Montague pushed him forward, out of the classroom. Remus shut the door behind them, rolling his eyes.

“Saint Anthony’s for the cup!” Percy sang, prancing down the aisle created in between neat rows of chanting students. “We always play with honor, whenever we grow stronger!”

_ Lyrically these songs left a little to be desired. But on this day, the lyrics weren’t the problem. It was what was behind them. _

Draco stood on his tiptoes to look over at Harry. Harry looked back, unsmiling.

_ This wasn’t my team. And maybe the idea of getting expelled began to surface once again. Honestly, I don’t remember. _

Montague moved to face Draco, who wasn’t singing, arms crossed over his chest. Victor grabbed him by the collar, dragging him to the front while continuing to chat the nonsenically stupid song. “Sing!” he insisted. “Fucking sing!” he shoved Draco to the ground, towering over him and shoving the megaphone at his mouth. “Fucking sing you little queer!”

_ They wanted me to sing? I’d sing like a canary _ .

Draco shoved Montague off of him, making the bigger boy fall to the floor. He scrambled up, grabbing the megaphone with him.

_ I had this big piece of news I could share - and what was I keeping it for? There was nothing wrong with being different. I knew that. And why did Harry get to be adored, and me bullied, and we’re about the same? Oh I’d tell them- I’d tell everyone. Then they’d apologize. Then everyone would be on my side for once. Finally, Draco had the conch. _

Draco got up on the stage right behind the line of the team, right behind Harry. “I’ll tell you who’s gay.” he held the megaphone up to his mouth. “Oh I’ll tell you who’s gay all right. Harry Potter is gay!” Harry’s head stayed hung, and the crowd of neatly aligned boys stayed silent. Draco spread his arms and beamed.

_ There it is, folks. A terrible memory. _

Draco set the megaphone down, patted it, and jumped down from the stage. Harry closed his eyes in a silent prayer, glancing over at Draco’s saunter and Flint’s death stare. Draco continued to walk down the aisle of boys, grinning. The smile fell as everyone’s eyes followed him and he realized what he had done, his head starting to hang. He left the gym with the loud slam of two doors closing.

“Your parents are flying home from Paris tonight.” Arthur told Draco in his office. “They’ll be here first thing in the morning. Draco, I’m aware you haven’t had it easy in this school. But grabbing a megaphone, disrupting match preparations, it crosses a line.”

“Am I expelled?” Draco asked.

“You’ll sleep in the infirmary tonight.” Arthur continued. “We’ll meet tomorrow morning at eight am. I expected so much more from you, Draco. I expected compassion, towards a boy who was new, towards a boy who was always going to feel a little different from the rest of you.” he sighed. “You, of all people, I thought could empathize with that.” Draco looked up at him, tears making his grey eyes shine. “Go on. Leave.” Draco looked down, blinking rapidly, and left, body hunched over.

_ It’s funny how it goes, isn’t it? Now that I seemed to have achieved my goal of getting expelled, there was nothing I wanted more than to go back to being a pupil in this school. _

Harry rapped sharply on the door to Remus’s room. The brown haired teacher opened the door, leaning against a nearby shelf. “Hey, Harry.”

“Can I talk to you?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course you can.” they both paused expectantly. “Oh, I can’t let you in here, sorry.” Remus said. “Stupid regulations.” he gave Harry a tentative grin. “Come on, we’ll go for a walk.” Remus grabbed his coat and keys, closing the door behind him as he followed Harry.

“So. Big day tomorrow, Harry.” Remus said as they walked along the grassy field. “The first final in… how long is it?”

“Yeah, I can’t do it.”

“It’s just nerves. You’re a great player in a great team. You’ll be fine.”

“That’s got nothing to do with it.” Harry stopped. “Sir, I saw you, with your ‘friend’. You were  _ together _ .” Remus, who had continued to walk, stopped. He sighed and turned to face Harry.

“So you saw me with a friend, Harry. So what? Look, I know it’s hard. I know. But… it gets better. Trust me.”

“When I’m older.” Harry scoffed.

“Yeah, when you’re older.” Remus agreed. “Sad fact of life.”

“So, I’m just supposed to keep lying?” Harry said, anger seeping through his voice.

“It’s not a lie. It’s not necessarily lying if you keep something to yourself.” Remus protested.

“But if you pretend to be something you’re not, then that’s a lie. Sir, I remember the lesson with Draco. I remember when you called him out for plagiarizing that song. ‘Don’t use a borrowed voice,’ you said. ‘Find your own voice.’ ‘Don’t be a sheep.’ Sir, you said that lesson wasn’t just for Draco. You said it was for all of us. So why am I exempt? Why am I different from everyone else?”

“You can’t be all things to all men, Harry, at all times. It’s not smart.”

“Why not?”

“Sometimes, you need to keep things hidden away. To protect yourself.” Harry sighed, and Remus moved closer to him. “There will come a point in the future when you won’t have to lie anymore. Trust me.”

“Will there?”

“Yeah.”

“And are you at that point?” Harry challenged.

“This isn’t about me.” Remus responded, eyes glazing over with tears. “It gets better. It gets better.” he hung his head and shrugged. “That’s all I can say to you. Please believe me, Harry.”

“How on Earth can I ever  _ begin _ to believe you?” Harry shook his head and started to walk away.

“Come on, Harry.” Remus said as the green eyed boy bumped into his shoulder. “Harry…” he called out again as Harry continued to walk away. He started to follow for a few paces, but stopped, and let him walk away.

“Jesus Christ, Harry, it’s eleven oh five!” Roger said, bursting into Harry and Draco’s shared dorm the next morning. He paused, seeing that both the beds were empty. He looked confused, closing the door behind himself.

“We take this type of transgression very seriously.” Arthur told Narcissa and Kingsley. “We’ll take the midterm to consider, but punishment will be severe.”

“I appreciate all that, thank you.” Narcissa told him gracefully. “Tell me though, what happened to Draco’s face?”

“Well, we can’t get an answer on that, I’m afraid.” he quirked his eyebrow at Draco. “Draco?”

The boy shook his head. “Nothing happened.”

“Something happened.” Kingsley responded.

“This is nobody’s fault but my own.” Draco insisted.

“More than anything this is about preserving the ethos of the school.” Arthur continued, but the door opened with a bang and Roger rushed in.

“Sir!” he said, looking down at Draco and his family. “Sorry.”

“Wait outside, Roger.” Arthur told him, and he started to leave, only to come right back in the minute his foot was outside the door.

“I can’t, sir. Harry’s gone missing.” Draco, who had shown no emotion besides general regret during the meeting, suddenly whipped his head around to look at the team captain. “He didn’t stay in his bed last night.” Roger carried on. “He’s gone.”

“Well, have you told Gilderoy- I mean Mr. Lockhart?”

“No, I thought I’d come to you first.”

“Well tell Mr. Lockhart I want to see him here. Immediately!” Arthur demanded. “Go on!” Roger nodded and turned out the door.

“Yes sir.” he said.

Gilderoy paced in front of the team of boys, who were sullen faced and worried. Roger came bursting through the door.

“Sir, Mr. Weasley wants to see you.”

“Roger, I thought you were supposed to be Roger and Harry. Where’s Harry?” Gilderoy asked, impatience shining through.

“Sir, there was an incident yesterday, and Harry - he’s gone missing.”

“Okay, what do you mean  _ missing _ , Roger?”

“Arthur wants to see you, sir. Now.” Roger responded.

“Arthur wants to see me…” Gilderoy repeated to himself quietly. He smiled an irritated smile at the team. “Of course this has to happen today.” he nodded. “Thank you, Roger.” he threw the whiteboard marker in his hands against the wall, hard. Roger winced, turning to lead Gilderoy out of the room. The boys looked amongst themselves, confused.

“Hey, Gilderoy. Good luck today.” Remus said, passing by the pissed coach in the halls. “Are you okay?” he asked, seeing Gilderoy’s face. The blond brushed by him, but stopped a step away. Remus stopped too, confused.

“You’re delighted, Lupin, huh? Over the fucking moon, yeah?”

“Erm, what?”

“Harry Potter, huh? Missing, on the day of the final.” Remus’s fake smile fell.

“Missing?” he asked.

“Missing! Yes! What part of missing don’t you understand?” Gilderoy strode away, and Remus watched after him, worry apparent on his features. He turned back to the hall and started to walk again.

Remus tapped on the door to the dorm, opening it himself to a lack of either boy, and all indicators they had ever been there gone. Whatever hope he had been clutching onto left his face.

Draco sat in the car with his mum and stepdad. The drive was quiet, Narcissa and Kingsley very obviously pissed.

“When we get back can I please jump out in town?” Draco asked Narcissa, leaning forward. “I really need to do something.”

“You must be kidding.” Narcissa said. Draco sighed and leaned back into the backseat, before leaning forward once more.

“Look, Mum, I know I’m in trouble, but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely vital.”

“Not only are you not ‘jumping out’, Draco, you are massively, unbelievably grounded until we can figure out what to do with you.” Narcissa scolded him. Draco sighed and leaned back again.

The boys on the train going to the final were rowdy and loud, despite the absence of Harry.

“Bletchley, feet down!” Arthur scolded as he made his way along the aisle. “Remus!” he greeted, coming to a halt by the English teacher and sitting down across from him with a sigh. “I suppose you’ve heard about Harry Potter.”

“Yeah.”

“His parents don’t know where he is.” Arthur continued. “Well, I’ve notified the guards anyway, so… and we have an untested player at outhalf.” Arthur chuckled bitterly. “I mean, Goldstein is, at best-”

“Oh who cares about the fucking rugby, Arthur!” Remus interrupted. “Some boys don’t play rugby. What about those boys?” they stared at each other in a moment of silence, only punctuated by happy and cheering boys, and the Remus got up and left.

In the car, Draco glanced from the windows and doors to the upcoming stoplights, making a plan. He pulled his bag closer, holding onto it. When Kingsley stopped at a stoplight, he darted to the side, pulling the door open and running.

“Draco!” Kingsley yelled, and Narcissa joined him. “Draco!” they yelled together after the running boy. “Fuck.” Draco kept running along the sidewalk.

_ Harry was always running. I couldn’t understand it, but now I finally got it. You have to know that you’re running in the right direction. _

The match, despite having not begun, was a mess of noise. Percy strode up and down the seats, chanting into his megaphone. People cheered, waving flags in Saint Anthony’s colors. The opposing team of Saint Peter’s ran drills on the field.

In the locker room, Gilderoy stood in front of a morose team. “Men. You might be wondering where our outhalf is. Earlier, as you know, I was called to Mr. Weasley’s office and informed that the boy has… had some kind of breakdown, and has gone missing. Today of all days, I know. I don’t know if you were aware of the rumors swirling around, but it transpires that he was dealing with… serious personal issues. Well he’s missing today, and I want to tell you this: we are way better off without him.” the team looked at him incredulously. “I mean, we all have personal issues, but look around you! Anyone who can’t be trusted to put those issues to one side can’t be part of a team. We all have shit that we’re going through, you know. But do you run? No. You stay.” his voice started to get emotional. “You stay, and you deal with your shit, by standing in a field blowing a whistle in the fucking rain!”

Remus sat down in the seats sadly, a dash of muted green and blue among the sea of harsh purple and bright green. He glanced over the cheering teams, a frown on his face. He got up, leaving the stadium. No one noticed.

Draco descended stairs down from a bridge. He hopped over their railing onto a wall, climbing down into a stone walkway by a pier. He walked down the pier, looking at the rows of boats, reading the names. Finally, at the very end of the pier, he came across the Aquarius.

He stepped onto it, going over the railing. “Hello?” he asked, looking into the body of the boat. He crouched down by the entrance. Harry sat there, head hung. “Can I come in?”

“What do you want?”

“I want to apologize for being a terrible friend.” Draco replied honestly, and Harry looked up at him.

“So you knew about me all along.” He demanded.

Draco nodded slightly. “I’m so sorry. Harry.” the rugby player looked away from him, and Draco pulled his bag closer to himself. “I want you to play. There’s still time.”

“You said that that wasn’t your team.” Harry accused him. “You’ve never even seen us play before.”

“Yeah, look, I was wrong. Okay? Turns out I was wrong about pretty much everything.”

“Not everything…” Harry scoffed, obviously referring to his sexuality.

“You don’t have to pick a side, Harry. You don’t have to be one thing or the other. You can be everything.”

“I’m not sure I can play for  _ them _ . For Flint. For the coach.”

“It’s not for them!” Draco protested. “You’re not playing for them. You’re playing for  _ us _ . It’s my team if you’re playing for it.” He leaned forward, over Harry, bracing himself on the sides of the door. “Reveal to them who you are. If you dare…”

“If you dare…” Harry whispered. He grinned and chuckled, and Draco smiled at him. “Our team, yeah.” Harry got up, and Draco beamed, leading him off the boat and running down the pier, side by side.

Saint Anthony’s was not playing well. Saint Peter’s was ahead of them, twenty one points to nothing.

When the team piled into the locker room at half time, upset and dirty, they stopped at the sight of Draco and Harry standing in the middle of the room. The team filled one half of the room, across from the two.

“Harry.” Gilderoy greeted brusquely. “What can we do for you?”

“Late again.” Harry quipped. “Sorry about that, lads.” from his side, Draco stayed silent, glaring judgingly at Gilderoy.

“Your mind is shot, right? You’re all over the place. I understand that.” Gilderoy said.

“How is it shot?” Harry asked.

“Well, at this point, we all heard about the thing…”

“The thing?”

“The thing.”

“The thing…” Harry said, feigning confusion.

“The thing! The thing! The thing! Lookit, it’s not your fault, but you cannot fit into this team.” Gilderoy said.

“Since when?” Harry rebutted.

“Since- look, you’re incompatible.”

“Incompatible according to who?”

“Us.” Gilderoy turned to look at the team. “According to all of us, isn’t that right, lads?” Everyone stayed silent.

“I dunno if you heard why I left my old school.”

“Yeah, we heard you got in some fights.” Roger said.

“And I dunno if you heard why I was fighting.” Harry sighed. “I was fighting everyone who found out who I was. Every last one of them. But… they kept coming. And I couldn’t stop them coming, and I couldn’t fight them all. I couldn’t stay and keep denying it, so I ran away, to our school. Thing is, lads, I’d like to stop running away, you know. I’m done with that.” he turned to Draco, who glanced down in shame. “Thanks to Draco here,” he faced the team again. “You all know who I am. I’m the same me I always was, and I really really want to be a part of the team. I’m here, and I’m ready to play. So if you want me on your side, just…”

“Goldstein has been filling in at ten and doing a perfectly good job.” Gilderoy said.

“C’mon, Gilderoy.” Roger protested.

“No, I haven’t, Gilderoy.” Anthony responded, and Gilderoy looked at him harshly.

“Believe in yourself, boy!” he snapped.

“I believe I’m fucking shit at outhalf. I’m a winger and you know it.” Anthony shook his head, and moved, going over to stand by Draco and Harry.

“Come on, Gilderoy, just put Anthony on the wing!” Roger protested.

“Well that’s a pity, Roger, because Anthony has just put himself on the bench!” Gilderoy yelled. “There is one coach on this team. One voice! Not fifteen! You hear me?” he turned back to Roger. “Do you hear me, Roger?”

Roger scoffed and walked over to join Harry, Draco, and Anthony. Then Cedric and Greg moved forward.

“Cedric Diggory, Greg Goyle, you’re both subbed off you pair of idiots!” Gilderoy yelled. “You pair of fucking tools.” he turned back to the remaining team on his side. “Lads, I’m sorry, but this lot have ruined your hard work for the year.” Seamus and Miles walked over to Harry and Draco. “Anyone else walks over to that side, and they’re gone too!” more boys walked over. “I’ll forfeit the game if I have to!” Gilderoy screeched, face growing red. More boys. “I can do that!” More. “That’s enough I said! You hear me?” he screamed, getting more manic by the second. When he finished, the only boy left by his side was Flint. The entire team minus the bully stood opposite, arms crossed or on hips and glaring. Gilderoy sighed. “Ah for fucks sake.” he said, glancing over at Flint and bracing himself against the wall.

Draco entered the stadium seats, moving past people to the nearest empty seat. He borrowed a girl's unused Saint Anthony’s polo, pulling it on over his blazer.

_ We all have that one thing we’re ashamed of. A memory of one moment so embarrassing we don’t know if we’ll ever be able to forget it. A single moment when, not only do we betray everyone around us, but we betray ourselves too in the most terrible way. Yes, we all have that moment. But the pain of remembering the embarrassment begins to fade eventually, with the help of a good friend. I will never forget that game for as long as I live. Harry was everywhere. Everyone noticed it. The determination to shut people up. To prove them wrong. What he was feeling spread throughout the team like a fever. People talked about it for months afterwards. _

Even Gilderoy was cheering on Harry from the sidelines, and the score of Saint Anthony’s began to go up, even if Harry missed the penalty kick he was given.

Remus came up to sit behind Arthur, followed by another man. “Harry’s playing!” he said in surprise.

“Yeah, young Draco found him.” Arthur replied.

Remus nodded, still in mild shock as he watched Harry on the field. “Well he’s a good kid. Draco.” they sat in silence for a minute, before Remus gestured to the man with him. “Arthur, this is Sirius.”

Arthur extended a hand for Sirius to shake, who took it gracefully. “Hello Sirius. Arthur.”

Remus sat awkwardly for a second before speaking. “Sirius’ me fella.” he said, and Arthur turned to look at him. Remus nodded. “We’re a bit of ‘an item’.” he explained, smiling. Arthur smiled back at him, and when he turned his head away, Remus winced. Arthur looked mildly confused, but he didn’t say anything to Remus or Sirius.

_ Like I said, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get over the embarrassment and the shame of what I did. But in a way, some good did come out of it. That year, everyone in school learned the same lesson. Not to speak in a borrowed voice. _

Harry continued to play ferociously, scoring point after point, but still missing every penalty kick afforded to him. Everyone was cheering, the seats decked in purple and green and Gilderoy on the sidelines. Finally, Saint Anthony’s was one point after Saint Peter’s.

They were given a penalty kick. Roger held the ball, looking at Harry, who nodded slightly. Roger tossed it to him. Gilderoy groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Harry set the holder down, and put the ball in it. The crowd waited in silent prayer and anticipation, no one believing he could do it. He took a step back.

_ You know, one single year before, I’d have given everything I owned for that kick to be missed. But people change. _

_ Draco set his essay down and stepped down off the stage. The ribbon behind him read ‘NAtional Essay Writing Competition’. _

Harry ran for the ball, hitting it with his foot and watching it soar high. The crowd stood up and roared as the ball flew through the goal. Remus threw his hands in the air cheering with Sirius, Arthur screamed joyously, and Harry beamed, looking up at a cheering and clapping Draco. The team converged on one another, arms wrapped around arms and bodies, hugging and screaming. Harry approached Gilderoy, who was crying in joy. He extended a hand, which Gilderoy took, and they shook hands.

Draco came down to the field, wrapping his arms around Harry. It wasn’t obvious who started it, but when they separated ever so slightly, they moved back together, lips clashing together as the cheering team surrounded them.

They joined the ranks of cheering people, Saint Anthony’s, family, and friends. Draco and Harry looked at each and smiled freely.


End file.
